


Target Practice

by VelkynKarma



Series: Parallel by Proxy [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Kuron (Voltron)-centric, firearm practice, mentions of illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 02:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16076522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelkynKarma/pseuds/VelkynKarma
Summary: Ryou has a brand-new Olkari arm with some serious ranged firepower. It's time to start training in how to use it, and there's only one sharpshooter on the team with the proper skills to teach him.





	Target Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt response on tumblr and I totally forgot to cross post it, oops! The request was Lance helping Ryou practice improving his aim with using his new Olkari arm.
> 
> So this is set at the very tail end/just after Failsafe, for reference. PbP is only canon compliant up to s4, but there are some minor background Garrison references dropped in s7.

“Are…are you serious?” Lance asks, incredulous. “You really want me to help you with shooting?”  
  
Ryou blinks at him. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be serious about that? You did offer to do some sharpshooter training sessions.”  
  
“I mean, I _did,”_ Lance admits, “But I was…I mean, I wasn’t really being serious, I didn’t think you’d really take me up on it, I was just…uh…” He looks sheepish. “Bragging? I…guess?”  
  
Ryou doesn’t really know what to make of that. Lance does brag, a _lot,_ usually about things he shouldn’t, but shooting is one of those few areas where Lance’s bravado isn’t all bluster. He really is as good as he says he is in that department. Ryou’s witnessed Lance hit marks that only experts could handle back on Earth.   
  
That was why he’d been willing to take up Lance on the offer in the first place. His new Olkari arm is very impressive, and its ranged shooting capabilities will no doubt be useful—assuming he can learn how to use them right. But nothing he remembers from being Shiro will help. Shiro has almost always preferred close combat when possible, and his own Galra prosthetic just isn’t used at range. Lance’s knowledge will be much more applicable here.  
  
“So,” Ryou says slowly, “are you saying you _can’t_ help me with training for this?”  
  
“No, no no no,” Lance says hastily. “I mean, I _could,_ I’ve done it, I helped Hunk figure out his bayard better and all that. Even Keith’s asked me for a few shooting pointers,” Lance adds, with self-satisfied pride. “I just don’t get why _you_ would need my help?”  
  
Ryou is baffled by that. “Why wouldn’t I?”  
  
“Well, I mean, you’re, y’know…Shiro-ish?”  
  
Ryou blinks. Stares. “Shiro… _ish?”_   
  
“Yeah,” Lance says, gesturing hastily with his hands as he tries to explain his point. “Like, you’re not Shiro anymore—or well, I guess you weren’t ever Shiro, but like, you still _thought_ you were and you acted like him and could do all the stuff he did, and like, he’s _Shiro_ , so why would he need shooting lessons from me? Or, uh, why would you? This is really confusing,” he finishes, exasperated.  
  
That makes two of them. “Okay, back up a second,” Ryou says, holding up his hand in a ‘stop’ motion. “We’ll ignore the fact that I’m _not_ Shiro for the moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to get shooting lessons from you?”   
  
Lance looks incredulous all over again. “Because he’s _Shiro._ Shiro can already do practically _everything.”_   
  
Ryou’s eyebrows both raise at that. “Can he really,” he intones. That’s certainly news to _him_ , and as Lance had pointed out in so roundabout a way, he’d been that person until very recently.  
  
“Sure,” Lance says. “He’s got all the high scores on all the simulations back at the Garrison. Youngest pilot to ever lead a mission in space. Broke over a dozen records in just a couple years. The news about his new record for fastest orbital velocity was huge!” There’s actual excitement on his face as he chatters on.   
  
_Fastest orbital velocity?_ Ryou thinks, idly. He doesn’t remember that. Pity. Sounds like it was fun.  
  
“Shiro’s like, the whole reason I even joined the Garrison to be a pilot in the first place,” Lance finishes. “I wanted to be able to do cool things like that. If I could do even a fraction of that stuff I’d be happy.” Then he looks sheepish. “Uh, but you probably know about all that stuff he did already, ‘cause, y’know…Shiro-ish. Now I feel kinda dumb for rambling about it. To you. This is _weird.”_   
  
 “I only remember maybe half of it well,” Ryou says, waving that aside. “And I promise I won’t tell Shiro, if that makes you feel better. You’re fine.”  
  
Lance’e expression is a mix of still sheepish, and also grateful. “Thanks.”  
  
“I still don’t see why that means he couldn’t learn shooting from you, though,” Ryou continues. “I’m betting none of those records he broke were for marksmanship.” Certainly none of the ones he remembers were.  
  
“No,” Lance admits, “But he always seems to know what to do, and he was still top class back at the Garrison, and he’s awesome at fighting, so I figured…”  
  
 _You’ve got a little bit of hero worship,_ Ryou notes with amusement, although he’s careful not to let it show on his face. That hadn’t been uncommon with cadets, from what memories he still has from Shiro’s time back on Earth. Shiro was charismatic, and an inspiration to a lot of the younger generation; the Garrison had often used him for PR and for teaching classes of new cadets in between missions for exactly that reason. Ryou remembers standing in front of more than a few classrooms full of starry-eyed students or cadets excited at the prospect of meeting their first minor celebrity.   
  
“Shiro is proficient with firearms,” Ryou says. “Enough to pass basic training. But it’s not a skill he’s ever really worked on improving.”  
  
Lance seems to consider this for a moment, before finally saying, “Huh.”  
  
He doesn’t seem terribly disillusioned, so Ryou figures at least a little of that old hero-worship has toned down since becoming a paladin. Probably because he’s just gotten to know Shiro as a person, and not a far-off elevated figure in news bytes and record books.   
  
“For that matter,” Ryou continues, “I’m not Shiro at all, so even that doesn’t apply to me. I only remember parts of Shiro’s basic training, and that’s not enough to put me in a real combat scenario. Plus, being sick wiped most of my muscle memory for things like this. Even if I had perfect recall of Shiro’s firearm training, this body doesn’t remember how to do that anymore.”  
  
Lance winces at that. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”  
  
Ryou shakes his head. “Nothing to apologize for. Point is, I need to re-learn how to shoot from square one, like I’m a fresh cadet. And out of everyone on the crew, you’re the one with the most firearm experience and the highest skill level with shooting. So I want you to start teaching me from the beginning—if you’re willing to, of course.”  
  
Lance stares at him. “I mean, of course I’m willing! But…from the beginning? _Really?”_  
  
“I’m dead serious,” Ryou says, very firmly. “I need to get it right the first time. There’s no room for mistakes because I assume I can do something and it turns out I can’t. I’ve been doing the same thing with Shiro, Keith and Allura learning hand to hand combat again—started with basic exercises and beginner katas. I need to approach this the same way.”  
  
“I guess that makes sense,” Lance admits. “Still must suck, though. After putting in all that work and effort before, I’d hate to get kicked down to starting over from scratch.”  
  
“It is what it is,” Ryou says neutrally, although inwardly he completely agrees. It’s frustrating to have Shiro running him through novice-level drills just to get his body used to moving properly for a fight, and then immediately watching Shiro take down a Gladiator with advanced skills he _knows_ he used to know. He feels stupid sometimes, when Keith gives him tips on combat maneuvers and _still_ manages to knock him on his ass during careful sparring practice, even though part of his brain still remembers being the one doing the teaching. He gets flustered when he mixes up Altean _youur-jun_ with Earth martial arts styles, and Allura has to correct him time and time again when his arms and legs just don’t feel like cooperating.   
  
He _remembers_ being so good at this. It’s almost more painful on his pride than his body to have to start over again.  
  
But for all that, he knows he’ll get there eventually. He has faded memories of Shiro first learning these things too, and he’d been just as frustrated back then. And really, Ryou is learning for the first time how to do all of this, just like Shiro all those years ago. His body had been conditioned _for_ him, the last time. This time, as Shiro pointed out to him when he was learning to walk again, this will be all _his_ victory when he gets there. He just has to work his way to that victory from the ground up.  
  
“So, the basics,” Ryou repeats. “Start from scratch and build some good habits. Then hopefully I can support the team without accidentally killing anybody.”  
  
“Yeah,” Lance says. “Friendly fire isn’t really all that friendly. Okay, let’s head to the training deck then.” He scratches his head as he stares at Ryou’s Olkari hand, and adds, “Although, I don’t think you’ll need _all_ the basics. I guess we don’t really have to worry about proper grip or how to pull the trigger right…”   
  
Ryou chuckles a little at that as he leads the way towards the training deck. “Alright, fair. All the basics, within reason. And I imagine we’ll have to still be inventive with some of it.”  
  
“Yeah, I don’t think this is what they had in mind with _handgun_ training,” Lance says, grinning widely as he follows.  
  
Ryou snorts. “That was terrible.”  
  
“You laughed!”  
  
“I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t encourage you. That was a moment of weakness.”  
  
Lance is still grinning at that, but moves on. “There’s other stuff we can work on, though. Stance and movement are still important. We’ll need a trick for aiming, unless you want to strap a scope to your wrist—“  
  
“I think people might notice that.”  
  
“Probably,” Lance agrees. “And what’s the range on that thing, anyway?”  
  
“It shoots pretty far,” Ryou says. “I played around with it a little at the Olkari armory. The blasts can vary in strength, too.”  
  
“We should probably figure out that too, then,” Lance says. “I had to play around with my bayard a little for the same reason, since it can change between standard and sniper rifle modes, and the shot strength can vary too. It’s not like swapping guns with different rounds at all.” He shrugs. “But if I can figure it out, you definitely can.”  
  
Ryou raises an eyebrow at that. Lance says it calmly, but it had edged a little too close to self-deprecating for Ryou’s tastes. “As I recall,” he says mildly, “ _you’re_ the team sharpshooter. If anyone’s an expert at this it’s you. I’m the novice by comparison. But I’m sure you’ll be an excellent teacher.”  
  
Lance can’t seem to help but preen a little at that. “Well,” he says, a little more confidently, “I guess Shiro _did_ say I was the sharpshooter. Maybe you’re right.”  
  
Lance knows his way around the firearm drills in the training deck well, and gets them set up in the room with holographic targets. “Non-moving targets for now,” Lance says. “At least until we know what you can do and you get used to the basics. And…what _can_ you do? I’ve never seen this thing in action.”  
  
“I guess a demonstration is in order, then,” Ryou says. He concentrates on lighting up—it’s becoming more and more second nature, with practice. It still fills him with a little thrill of excitement to watch the leaf-vein pale green patterns crawl up from his fingertips to his elbow, and to watch the pale green energy start to coalesce in his fist as the weapon charges. Even now, quintents later, it’s still exhilarating to feel and to watch.  
  
After a few ticks he’s pretty sure the weapon is done charging, and he releases that energy and fires a blast at the far wall, where the holographic targets are set up. He misses the target by a little less than a foot, and the blast disintegrates against the reinforced far wall of the training deck.  
  
“Wow,” Lance says. “That’s pretty cool! That thing packs a lot of power. That’s more like a small cannon blast than a rifle.”  
  
“I can reduce the amount of charge in it too,” Ryou says. “Make it a little less powerful, if needed.”  
  
“We’ll have to practice that,” Lance says. “But that’s also a pretty big blast. The size of your fist at least. That’s more like Hunk’s bayard. Can you reduce the size of it? Like…” He gestures, putting his right fist in his left palm, and pointing it like a gun. “Pow, pow, pow!”   
  
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Ryou admits, giving it a try. Firing with just one finger is difficult—it can’t gather much power by itself, so pointing at the targets in the distance and shooting creates a thin beam of pale green that barely makes an impact. It might work for distraction, but not much else. Two fingers works better. He can concentrate enough energy to make a reasonable impact in a target, assuming he ever hits one, and it will offer more accuracy and less blatant destruction in a combat situation.   
  
“Not bad!” Lance says. “Now that’s more up my alley. You’re still shooting wide, though—everything is tracking left so far. You should use your left hand to stabilize the shots. I guess you don’t have to really worry about a bad trigger pull putting your shot out of alignment, but the extra stability will help keep your shots clustered better.”   
  
“Alright,” Ryou agrees, and gives that a try too. It really does help, regardless of if he uses what Lance is already referring to as either ‘rifle’ form or ‘cannon’ form, and he’s able to at least nick the edges of the targets.  
  
“Still overestimating,” Lance muses thoughtfully, watching the shots. Ryou is impressed, actually; Lance looks confident and serious, with most of his goofiness and bravado having vanished. He knows what he’s doing and he’s doing it well, and not bothering to try and play it up for show. This, Ryou muses, is probably what Lance _really_ is, underneath all the bluster and lack of confidence.   
  
“How do we fix that?” Ryou asks, encouraging.  
  
Lance glances back and forth between the targets and Ryou, thinking. “Stance,” he says finally, demonstrating. “Just to start. Relax your shoulders a little. Reposition your feet more like this. Keep your arms extended but not locked. You can face forward like this, or sideways like this, but either way it should be solid.”  
  
Ryou imitates, and Lance nods approvingly.   
  
“We also need to figure out aiming for this thing,” Lance says, pointing at the had. “It’s not like using an actual firearm…even if it is a literal firearm.”  
  
“That was also terrible, and not even original,” Ryou complains. “You did that already.”  
  
“Hey, who’s teaching who, here?” Lance says, arms crossed, before getting back to work. “You don’t have sights, so we’re going to have to figure out the right angle and level for a good shot, and then get your muscle memory and your brain used to it. Your shots have been a little low. Raise it just a little bit.” He adjusts Ryou’s wrist carefully, and nudges it just a hair to the right. “Okay. Try _that.”_  
  
Ryou does. The shot burns cleanly through the holographic target in the second ring. Lance whoops. “Nice! You hit it!”  
  
“Still not completely,” Ryou says, adjusting his aim just a little. He shoots again with two fingers. This time it strikes cleanly, dead center.   
  
Lance cheers again. “You’re already turning into a sharpshooter,” he says, grinning.  
  
“That was only because you did most of the targeting for me,” Ryou admits. Lance has an impressive aptitude for spacial awareness when it comes to this sort of thing. He doesn’t have Keith’s instinctive skills for knowing how to move and when in high-stakes flight with split-second timing, but Lance’s spacial skills excel on a different level. He can estimate distance and angle and calculate aim and trajectory impressively quickly, even when it’s not his weapon, and he appears to be doing that almost entirely by instinct.  
  
Lance shrugs. “It just takes practice. Try it again—see if you can find the angle yourself, now that you know around where your hand should be and you have a better idea of how it aims.”  
  
Ryou nods, and gives it a shot. Literally.  
  
Damn, he’s going to get as bad as Lance if this keeps up.  
  
They spend the next two vargas practicing. Lance helps Ryou master the basics of the stance and get used to estimating distance and aiming. He teaches him some breathing tricks, to help with not throwing off the shots, and Ryou learns to incorporate those quickly. Sometimes Lance demonstrates with his own bayard, summoning it to blast several of the targets in neat clusters, highlighted blue by the holographic displays. Whenever he does, he doesn’t use his sights.   
  
“They’re really useful, don’t get me wrong,” Lance says. “And I use them a lot in actual missions, but I think it’s really important to understand the limits and basics of your rifle without them too. If somebody’s in trouble I might not have time to actually line up a shot. I have to just take it, y’know? So I have to know how to do that and know where I’m aiming.”  
  
That’s fair, Ryou admits. And also encouraging. It means teaching himself to shoot with a prosthetic is feasible, if he can just get the muscle memory down.  
  
And after two vargas he does feel like he’s starting to get the hang of it. He can always hit the targets now, at least, although the shots still tend to cluster towards the outer edges of the rings, rather than the center. He gets closer to bull’s eyes as time progresses, and manages to nail a few even on his own. He learns to estimate the distances better and vary the power of his shots to hit things, and gets better at identifying when to use the ‘cannon’ form versus the ‘rifle’ form. Aiming and stabilizing gets more comfortable, as does finding the right angle and height to shoot from.   
  
“You’re doing great,” Lance says. “You’re already better than Keith. He can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”  
  
Ryou raises an eyebrow. “Really?”  
  
“He’s awful,” Lance says, almost cheerfully. “Did you know when he attacked Zarkon’s command he only hit like, once for every four shots?”   
  
“I didn’t,” Ryou says, although that’s not terribly surprising. Shiro had been pretty preoccupied at the time, and he never _had_ been given an opportunity to discuss that battle after, on account of the whole ‘being teleported to the far side of the universe and captured in his own head’ debacle.   
  
“Well, you’re doing good,” Lance says. “I think if you practice every day you’ll get the hang of basic shooting. You’re already figuring out your aim pretty well, you just need to get the muscle memory down. And when you’ve got that, I can start showing you how to hit moving targets, or to hit things while you’re moving. And some other tricks, too, for using the surrounding area to your advantage while shooting. I bet I could teach you some sniping, too—that’s always useful. Shiro keeps saying he wishes he had more people to play a support role in combat like that.”   
  
“Those all sound great,” Ryou says. “But for now, I think I need a break.” He’s only been standing still for a few hours and shooting, but he’s exhausted. He’s been doing very well in his failsafe recovery, putting on more weight and muscle and building up his endurance, but he still has a ways to go. He probably shouldn’t push himself too hard—not if he wants to be back in the field any time soon.  
  
“Oh…oh, right, of course!” Lance says. He looks like he’d forgotten Ryou had even been sick. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have made you practice for so long, I didn’t even think. Ugh. Teaching is _hard.”_   
  
“You didn’t do as badly as you think, and you didn’t force me to do anything,” Ryou says, vaguely amused.   
  
“Maybe,” Lance says, as he hurries over to grab a couple of water packs from the dispenser in the corner, “But I definitely don’t want Shiro to yell at me about overworking you or anything.”  
  
 _Less hero worship there,_ Ryou thinks with an internal chuckle. Outwardly, he nods in thanks as he accepts his water pack, and says, “Yeah, he’s been…watchful, lately.”   
  
Lance sticks the straw in his water pack. “Yeah. But even with that, you’ll be a sharpshooter in no time.”   
  
“Thanks, Lance,” Ryou says. “I really do appreciate it.”   
  
Lance grins. “No problem! We can set up more lessons like this, if you want. There’s lots of stuff I can show you, and it’ll be awesome to have another ranged person on the team.” He seems excited at the prospect of being able to teach someone anything, now that they’ve gotten over the ‘Shiro-ish’ hurdle.   
  
“I won’t say no to that.” There’s precious little else Ryou can really do at the moment. He won’t be going on missions for another feeb or two at least. He still has to focus on recovery, but when the others aren’t on missions, he can practice, too.  
  
“Great! Just let me know when.”   
  
“You got it.” And then, curious, he asks, “Who taught you how to shoot? If you don’t mind my asking.”  
  
Lance grins again. “Would you believe my sister?”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. She’s Garrison, too. I don’t know if you’d remember her. I’m not even sure if Shiro ever met her. She’s pretty good with firearms, though. Taught me everything she knew when she heard I was thinking about joining, too.”  
  
He looks a little wistful at the very end, so Ryou says, “I’m sure she’d be real proud of you, putting all your skills to use like this. You’ve done a great job supporting everyone, both with that bayard and without.”  
  
Lance smiles. “Thanks, Ryou.”  
  
They finish off their water, and Ryou rolls his shoulders, trying to work some of the stiffness out of them after a few hours of standing and aiming. “You should probably check in with the others,” Ryou says. “And I’ll probably swing by and see if Hunk will let me help with dinner at all. But I’ll definitely be back tomorrow to give this a try again.”  
  
“Alright,” Lance agrees. “Good luck, and let me know when you want to do more practice stuff.” He brightens. “Maybe you can even get me out of group training?”  
  
“Don’t push your luck, Lance,” Ryou says, amused. “But I’ll see what I can do,” he adds, at Lance’s crestfallen expression.   
  
“Yes! Great! Thanks!” Lance grins as he heads out the door.  
  
Ryou smiles a little, and then glances down at his Olkari fist. He’s not there yet—he’s still got a lot of practice and a lot of recovery left to go. But by the time he gets there, he’s going to be ready for anything.


End file.
